My vision blurred as he worked his hips and never slowed his pace. An orgasm like I’d never experienced before gathered inside me, building with every thrust until I teetered on the edge, detonation imminent.

Rix never stopped. He pushed me over the edge mercilessly, sliding his hand between my legs and pressing his thumb over my clit.

My scream might have woken the neighbors, but I didn’t care.

It. Was. Glorious.

I rode out the orgasm as Rix continued to take me with decadent intensity. His own roar sounded as his hips stilled and his cock pulsed inside me.

Sweat dripped from his face, and my own skin was slick. I didn’t know if it had come from him or me, but it didn’t matter.

I think I can check “fuck of a lifetime” off my bucket list.

A small giggle escaped from my lips and Rix’s gaze snapped to mine. “Now is not the time to be laughing, duchess.”

I covered my mouth, my smile growing larger. “I can’t help it. I think my brain quit working. I’m blaming you.”

His lips curved upward into a genuine smile, and the expression on his face relaxed. “Guess I can handle that.”

He squeezed my hip before he lowered my legs and slid out from between them. The loss of his fullness wasn’t welcome. I wasn’t ready to let him go. But instead of saying those ridiculous things out loud, I watched as he crossed to the bathroom and disappeared inside.

I pulled the sheet up around my cooling body and curled onto my side, facing the bathroom.

I can’t believe that just happened.

Being woken from a dead sleep on the brink of the best orgasms of my life was a new experience for me. And I was happy to repeat it anytime.

Rix came back into view within moments, his attention skimming over my body as he moved toward the bed.

He didn’t speak as he lifted the sheet and slid under it. He also didn’t speak as he rolled me over and pulled me back into his big, warm body. His arm wrapped around me, pinning me against him, and I didn’t protest. I’d never really spooned with anyone before, and he would have been the last person I would have expected it from. But I couldn’t stop myself from snuggling back into him, soaking up his warmth.

His lips found my ear, and the words he growled into it left no doubt as to how much had truly changed in the space of the last hour.

“You sleep in my arms. Come on my cock. Reach for me in the night. That’s how it’s gonna go from here on out, duchess. That’s just the beginning of being mine.”

I didn’t know how to respond. A simple okay seemed weak. But I didn’t have any declarations of my own to add to it. I was completely okay with everything he said, but I also wondered what followed just the beginning of being mine.

“Now, turn your head and kiss your man. Because I’m beat, and we need to catch some sleep.”

I twisted my head to meet his eyes. “I guess this means you’re mine too, right?”

Rix gave me a sharp nod. “Damn right.”

“I can work with that.” I pressed my lips to his and turned to get comfortable again.

I felt his lips on my hair, and as I drifted off, I thought I heard him say, “Yeah, you’ll work with that.”

I WOKE ALONE, AND IF not for the messy bed and the definite soreness between my legs, I would have thought I’d dreamed the whole thing. But it had happened. I replayed every memory as I let the hot water of my shower cascade over me.

Give your man a kiss.

My man was a criminal. My father was a judge. And very soon, I had to tell the cop who said he wasn’t giving up the fight that he’d already lost.

How had my quiet life become this unrecognizable tangle of craziness?

Toweling dry my hair, I stared at the rumpled sheets of the bed. How had I not woken up when he’d left? Probably because I’d slept better than I had in recent memory while in his arms. Not something I expected in the least.

You sleep in my arms.

Did that mean he was planning on sleeping here every night? Was I even okay with that? The memories kept replaying on a constant loop as I brushed my teeth, put on makeup, and blow-dried my hair.

Apparently getting lost in the thoughts of amazing sex from the night before wasn’t good for my punctuality, because I arrived at the gallery five minutes after I should have been open. But it wasn’t like there was a line of customers out the door, so no one would ever know.

As I walked inside, a wave of frustration and helplessness washed over me. Trinity should be here today. She should be working with me, and arguing about how to rearrange at least one wall. Instead, I was trusting in Rix that she was safe and he was getting her back. Even though it seemed to be taking a ridiculous amount of time. That’s the funny thing with faith, you don’t get to question if you were going to believe. And if I was believing Rix, I’d have her back soon.

I did. I believed him. I had faith.

And then the front window of my gallery shattered.

Dropping to my knees, I crouched on the floor, covering my face and waiting for the sound of gunshots or screams. But when none came, I blinked open my eyes slowly and turned my head toward the front window. Broken glass covered the old wood floor, and in the middle of it was a brick.

Once I’d pushed up to my feet, I walked on unsteady legs toward it. A piece of paper was wrapped around it, but the writing wasn’t visible. I wanted to touch it, but thoughts of all the cop shows I’d seen over the years stopped me before I reached for it.

Fingerprints. Maybe there were some. I needed a cop.

Obviously, Rhett was the first one to come to mind. The saying kill two birds with one stone came to mind, but it seemed less than ideal considering the brick I was staring at.

The shattered front window mocked me as I walked to my desk and pulled my phone out of my purse. I had two calls to make, one to Rhett and the other to the man I could always count on.

My daddy.

Two crime scene technicians collected evidence while one of Rhett Hennessy’s colleagues questioned me about the events of the morning. Was I usually late for work? Did I see anything before the brick came through the window? Did anyone yell anything? Did I hear a car? Could it have been someone on foot? Did I have any enemies or possible motives for someone to vandalize my gallery?

I answered all of his questions patiently, and stumbled over a not that I can think of in response to the last question. The fact that Trinity was still missing and I wasn’t able to report it to the cops definitely was at the forefront of my mind. It wasn’t a stretch to think it could be related. Or maybe it was just some random crime. I had no idea.